


The Seven Gates of Pleasure

by nihilistshiro



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Breeding, Bukkake, Choking, Double Penetration, Gangbang, Knotting, Macro/Micro, Nonbinary Lance (Voltron), Oral Sex, Other, Oviposition, Restraints, Rough Sex, Sex Pollen, Spitroasting, Tattoos, Temperature Play, Tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:06:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28435845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nihilistshiro/pseuds/nihilistshiro
Summary: In the mythical land of Oriande, Allura, goddess of light, grieves the loss of her Champion and royal guard, Shiro, who was taken to the underworld. Honerva, goddess of death, refuses his release and claims ‘no man or woman’ can claim him.Determined, Allura uses her ancient alchemic magic to summon a divine supernatural being so stunningly gorgeous, they intoxicate anyone they encounter — Lance. They are bathed in starlight, neither man nor woman — the beauty of a siren and the grace of the gods.Allura sends Lance on a mission to rescue Shiro from the underworld and bring him home. But while Lance manages to succeed and is on the brink of escape with Shiro, Honerva casts one last curse.Lance and Shiro must pass through...The Seven Gates of Pleasure.
Relationships: Lance/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 71
Collections: SpookyShanceBang





	The Seven Gates of Pleasure

**Author's Note:**

> This story is very personal for me, where the trans nonbinary character is the hero. I had such a pleasure working on this fic with my bang partners, [@KrissGopher](https://twitter.com/KrissGopher) and [@cissilian](https://twitter.com/cissilian)!
> 
> They created incredible art for this fic ([here](https://twitter.com/KrissGopher/status/1344124367698014210?s=20) and [here](https://twitter.com/cissilian/status/1344408774434562049?s=20)) and helped me shape the story. So appreciative to you two, and the entire Shance +18 server for hosting the Shance Spooktacular Bang!
> 
> This pic is loosely based on a trans goddexx from Bablyonian myth named [Asushumanir](https://tragicgenderstory.com/2016/07/18/seeking-humanity-in-trans-stories/).

Shiro jolted up, the clank of his cell door invading his nightmare. Dark hair stuck to his neck, sweat plastering his tattered clothes to his chest. 

“Good morning, Champion.” Shiro was greeted with the sickly sweet voice of the witch’s druid. “Are you comfortable?”

They came often to check on him, mostly to make sure he wasn’t dead, although they were happy to let him get as close as their magic would allow.

The chamber was pitch black, and Shiro tried to stand, but his arms were tethered behind his back, his legs shackled to the hard stone floor.

“I asked you a question,” the druid hissed, lashing out with a glowing purple whip.

Shiro cringed as the weapon sliced across his midsection, barely holding back a scream. Blood trickled from the wound and Shiro crumpled forward, landing on his side, his arm curled protectively around his middle.

“I doubt he will answer you now, Kozen.”

Honerva stepped into Shiro’s cell, her yellow eyes pinned on her target. 

“Leave us,” she said, and the druid bowed and backed out of the room.

Honerva walked over to Shiro, her lips curled in a sinister grin. 

“I’ve been waiting a long time for this,” she mused, black orbs forming on either hand as she activated her ancient abilities.

Lightning shot out from the orbs, wrapping around her target and lifting Shiro off the ground. He coughed as the magic wrapped around his throat, squeezing until his face turned red. He let out a strangled cry, beams of violet light shooting out of his eyes and his mouth.

“You are my vessel,” Honerva said. “You will carry my message to your goddess and you will aid in her demise.”

She swirled her arms, churning the energy as she began to chant. Kozen joined her, their voices echoing around the prison cell.

Shiro’s flesh felt like it was searing from the inside. The bonds that held him evaporated as his entire form radiated dark magic. He was frozen in agony, his body Honerva’s puppet. His chest convulsed, a great wave of energy climbing up his throat.

“Allura, Goddess of Oriande.” Several voices came out of Shiro, layered and regal, a message designed to reach Allura high on her throne. “Your Champion is now a prisoner of the Underworld, property of Honerva. No man or woman can save him and your back will be unprotected. Sleep with one eye open.”

Honerva released Shiro, the magic rushing back into her in a great _whoosh_. Shiro crashed to the stone floor, and he crawled onto all fours as his lungs began to heave in great, cacophonous hacks. A shock of white hair fell over his brow, bleached as a physical representation of the magical toll.

Shiro coughed, blood spittling from his lips.

“What did you do to me?” he rasped. 

“It’s simple, really,” Honerva said. “You are the one thing keeping Allura protected. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that you _were_ the one protecting her.”

Honerva leaned down, her finger digging beneath Shiro’s chin, forcing his eyes to meet hers.

“Getting you out of the way means that she is vulnerable and I just need to wait it out until one of her many enemies comes calling. When she’s gone, Oriande will finally be mine.”

Shiro growled in frustration, reaching back with the mechanical fist Allura fashioned for him, hoping to knock Honerva’s smug smile from her face. He swung, but only connected with a puff of black smoke.

Shiro toppled to the ground amidst Honerva’s sick laughter reverberating around him.

* * *

—lura! Allura! Are you alright?”

Allura blinked open to see Coran’s blurry face. Her head swam as her eyes tried to focus.

_“Sleep with one eye open.”_

Allura shot up, knocking Coran back.

“Hey—”

“Coran, I know where Shiro is.”

Coran helped Allura to her feet, holding her as she steadied herself. Shiro went missing after his last mission and Allura was searching high and low for any sign of him.

“I had a vision. No. It was more than that. It was a message. from Honerva.”

“Honerva? Oh, no.”

“I’m trying to remember her exact words,” Allura murmured.

“Let’s get you something to drink and we’ll try to figure it out, alright?”

Coran led her to a small observatory tucked in the temple’s west wing. The circular room was supported by massive pillars and decorated with plush blankets and pillows. 

Allura sat on the high stone balcony, resting against a pillar as she looked out over the gardens of Oriande, her snowy brow furrowed. A young woman came in with a tray of drinks and handed them to Coran, bowing before she left the room.

“What do you remember?” Coran asked, kneeling beside Allura’s perch.

She sipped from the cup, the cool water helping her focus.

“I saw him trapped with the witch’s magic, bound in a stone cell.”

“What else?”

“She spoke to me through him. She said…” Allura’s voice trailed off as she thought back, her eyes scrunched shut. “Your Champion is mine. No man or woman can save him. Sleep— Sleep with one eye open.”

Allura looked at Coran, his face pale. 

“She means to keep him to leave me unguarded.”

“Why wouldn’t she just kill you herself?”

“She doesn’t have to,” Allura replied, setting her cup down and getting to her feet. “There are enough evil forces in the world that wish to do away with me.”

“But you and your father both helped develop Shiro’s skills. You imbued him with more power than any other creature. His feats are legend! I don’t understand how Honerva is holding him.”

Allura’s long white garment swished as she crossed the room, Coran leaping to his feet to keep up. 

“Shiro’s ability to serve as my Champion is infallible, save for the realm of the dead. He’s powerless in the Underworld.”

Coran fiddled with his gloves nervously. “What are we going to do?”

They stopped at the door to Allura’s workshop, her face set in steely determination.

“If no man or woman can save him, then I’ll create a being who can.”

Coran twisted his mustache. “It’s going to be difficult. Even your father’s alchemy couldn’t produce a creature capable of infiltrating the Underworld.”

Allura’s eyes were gemstone daggers. “I have to try.”

She began her work immediately, calling forth her monks to prepare her golden instruments. Allura sent Coran to fetch a chunk of crystal she’d salvaged from a dead star and sifted through a stack of old texts, searching for the right formula. 

It took ages, and Allura was grateful she’d changed into more comfortable robes. Her back was aching, her fingers cramping, and the moon began to rise, casting Oriande in a silver glow. 

There was a large, round table at the center of her workshop, and the monks were quick to clear it of any clutter. Allura’s assistant Romelle prepared the star, wafting smoke around it to cleanse it before the ritual.

“I think I’ve got it,” Allura said, deep into the night. 

Romelle and Coran were the only ones left, and they gathered around the table. Motes of sparkling blue emanated from Allura as she meditated, calling forth her ancestors and the cosmic powers that blessed her the goddess of love and light.

She raised her arms, her magic enveloping the star and lifting it from the table. The crystalline rock began to spin, splitting into seven small pieces that Allura formed into perfect spheres. Sweat broke out along her temples and she grunted with the sheer force it took to complete her task. 

Romelle hurried to throw a special piece of Altean silk over the table, smoothing it out as Allura stepped closer, controlling the pieces of the star until they were in a straight line, hovering over the silk. Allura recited the incantation she’d developed to manifest her spell, ancient Altean sliding smooth across her tongue.

The markings on her cheeks were radiating blue light and the fabric ruffled up from the table, hovering at first until it began to rise. It floated up, up, until it met the star fragments, wrapping around them.

The torches illuminating the chamber flickered, Allura’s incantation growing louder and louder. Romelle joined in, focusing her energy on the silk, which was billowing now like a giant cloud, warping and shifting as the magic became more powerful.

Inside the cocoon of translucent silk, the star fragments split, cracking open. Allura released her hold as the spell was already underway, and grabbed a vile that had been blessed by the lion gods. She opened the vile, and the contents poured out like liquid metal, climbing through the air to join the rest of the bewitched materials. 

Allura pulled a slim, sharp dagger from her robes, holding the jeweled hilt in one hand and dragging the blade over her open palm. 

“Hear me, celestial being. I bring you forth as a beacon of hope, shrouded in stardust and all that is good and pure in this world. Come forth and present yourself. Neither man nor woman. The perfect being who shall return my Champion to me.”

She cast her blood into the swirling creation that was humming and spinning above the table. It was glowing brighter and brighter, the blue light so intense it turned white. The whirring sound increased in frequency, a high-pitched sound that made everyone in the room cover their ears.

Coran shielded Allura and Romelle, pulling them behind a wooden trunk as the objects in the room began to shake and fall. The ball of light hovering above the table grew blindingly bright, the glass in the room shattering, the torches extinguishing.

The noise stopped, the light shrinking back into a lean silhouette. The trio peeked over the top of the trunk, watching as a being drifted down, their slender feet landing feather-light on the table. 

They had short white hair, interrupted with glorious, curled horns. Their eyes were glowing, as were their Altean makings. Their skin was dusky lavender, reminiscent of the sky just before the sunrise, and it faded to the color of the night as it reached their fingertips. 

They were stunningly beautiful and Allura’s mouth dropped open as she scrambled to her feet to introduce herself.

“Hello, I am Allura, Goddess of—”

Allura was cut off when the being smiled at her, outstretching their arms. “I know who you are. Goddess Allura, bringer of peace and light to all, princess of lions.”

Allura blushed. “And what shall I call you.”

“Have you not a name in mind?” they replied, their pointed ears flicking curiously.

“Lance,” she said, thinking of an Earth man she’d seen in a vision of another one of Shiro’s lives. 

A name from another reality for a being unlike any other.

“Please,” Allura whispered, tears brimming her lashes. “Bring him home.”

Lance tilted their head to the side, their expression openly curious and confident. As if they could not fathom leaving Allura’s desire unfulfilled.

“Let your faith flow freely,” Lance replied, closing their eyes to manifest an ornate outfit of gold and white, similar to the fashions of the Altean gods. “I will not fail you.” 

* * *

The days passed in a nightmarish haze for Shiro. There was cruelty, to be sure, the least of which being his routine visits from Kozen and his friends.

But the days he abhorred were the ones he spent fighting in Honerva’s gladiator pit. Killing for the amusement of the demigods and demons in Honerva’s service.

It was a miserably violent place where poor souls battled for better conditions in the Underworld or sometimes a chance to return to their previous life. 

One such day as he waited in his cell, Shiro was approached by his least favorite demon, Sendak. 

“Honerva requests your presence tonight for a special occasion,” Sendak said with a sadistic grin.

He held up the collar and muzzle Shiro was forced to wear whenever he left the dungeons.

He’d been wearing it long enough to produce a tender, pink scar across the bridge of his nose that protested as Sendak locked it into place. 

“Up,” Sendak growled, tugging on the leash attached to the collar at Shiro’s throat.

Shiro stumbled to his feet, his eyes burning with hatred. Sendak led him down the dungeon hallway, weaving through the catacombs beneath the upper level of the Underworld.

They climbed a spiral staircase, crystals blooming from the rock around them the higher they climbed. Sendak paused outside of a great cavern; a gathering space, and the only other space Shiro had seen in the Underworld that rivaled the size of the fighting pit. 

The walls were the same black rock that made up most of the structure, and purple flames illuminated the space. A massive crystal sculpture hung from the ceiling, and it glowed as if it was alive. 

Sendak slipped a claw beneath Shiro’s collar and dragged him in close, domineering over him. 

“Don’t make a scene, and I won’t hurt you,” Sendak snarled. “Much.”

There was a tinkling of strange drums as they entered the cavern, the music signaling their arrival to the rest of the crowd. Shiro recognized some of the faces from his time in the gladiator ring; the higher ranking officials were awarded luxury boxes along the sidelines.

All of the powerful members of Honerva’s inner circle were present, and servants were rushing around with trays of decadent food. Wine and mead flowed freely, and there was a quartet of vocalists, providing the ethereal, ambient music.

Sendak tugged Shiro along, drawing in on Honerva’s head table.

“Ah, Champion! There you are!” Honerva called, standing with her arms raised as if she wanted to hug Shiro. 

Her lips were stretched too wide with her hungry grin and it was enough to make Shiro physically wince.

“We’ve been eagerly awaiting your arrival.”

Honerva hiccuped, falling back into her chair in a fit of giggles. Shiro stopped in his tracks and coughed when Sendak yanked the leash, urging him forward.

“What’s happening?” Shiro asked, voice muffled by the muzzle, his brow knit in confusion as he took in Honerva’s strange behavior. 

Sendak kicked the back of Shiro’s leg, knocking him to his knees. He held out the leash as Honerva used her magic to float up from her place on the dais down to Sendak.

“Thank you! Your loyalty is unequaled,” Honerva said cheerfully, snatching the leash from Sendak’s outstretched hand. “Our guest will be pleased. You’ve done well. Now, go enjoy yourself!”

Sendak furrowed his brow but did as he was told, and as Shiro watched him disappear into the crowd, Shiro everyone — not just Honerva — appeared to be inebriated. He glanced around the room, ignoring Honerva’s blathering as she pulled him up to the dais.

“Here he is, my delightful companion. This is my Champion you were asking about.”

Shiro refrained from snapping at her possessive introduction and turned in time to see Honerva’s guest and his brain turned to static. 

The creature sitting before him was unlike any Shiro had encountered in any realm. Short snowy hair framed a heart-shaped face the color of lavender in high summer.

Luminous aqua eyes stared back at Shiro, Altean markings flecked beneath them and pointed ears poking out of their hair. 

“Shiro.” He flushed at the sound of his name on the stranger’s lips — or perhaps it had just been so long since anyone used his given name. “You may call me Lance. I have been searching for you.”

A thousand questions raced through Shiro’s mind, but before he could verbalize any of them, Lance was reaching down to take the leash away from Honerva.

“This is for me,” they said, and Honerva didn’t lift a finger to stop them. 

She was completely infatuated, sitting back down and resting her face in her palm. A dreamy expression overtook her as she simply watched Lance’s movements. 

“Whatever you ask for shall be yours,” she replied, helping herself to more food and drink.

“Then I will be seated with the Champion during our meal so that we may converse in private.”

Honerva did not protest as Lance deftly undid the muzzle and collar, tossing them aside. 

“Follow me,” they said. 

Eyes watched Lance wherever they went, but Shiro was too captivated to notice. Their clothing was of traditional Altean design, the garments floating like seafoam around them, gold bands circling their arms. Atop their head were two magnificent horns, curling out and luminous.

“Who are you?” he asked, when Lance sat at a table in the corner, far enough from prying ears.

Lance motioned for Shiro to sit and he obeyed. It would take Shiro a while to get used to such perfection in physical form. Even Allura’s beauty paled in comparison.

“I was summoned by the Goddess Allura to bring you back to Oriande,” Lance explained, their delicate fingers waving in an elegant motion as they spoke. “Part of my...composition...is my ability to enchant anyone I speak with. Mortal or immortal.”

“W-What about me?” Shiro asked, wracking his brain to see if he could feel the effects of enchantment.

“You?” Lance sounded surprised and their gazes locked, time slowing. “I was summoned specifically for you, Shiro. Made for you in every way. Even my appearance is based on a love of yours in another life.”

“What? How?”

“The Goddess. Allura values you. Not just as her Champion.” Lance reached out and settled their hand atop Shiro’s. “To her, you are a true friend.”

Shiro didn’t have a response and sat dumbstruck. Around them, Honerva and her Galra hoard were imbibing well-beyond reason, and soon the cavern was filled with the raucous laughter of the drunk.

“What did you do to them?” Shiro asked.

“I asked them to drink themselves into a slumber,” Lance said with a faint hint of a smile curling their lips. “Allura asked me to retrieve you. She didn’t say I had to kill anyone in the process. Soon, they’ll all be passed out and we’ll walk free.”

“So, now what? We just wait?” Shiro asked, his eyes latching onto a tray of passing food, his mouth watering at the sight of a real meal.

Lance beckoned to the servant carrying the tray and selected a plate, setting it down in front of Shiro.

“Yes. We wait. You eat. You’ll need your strength.”

“But I thought you said everyone would be asleep?” 

Lance leaned in, their voice taking a serious edge. “This place is a labyrinth of horrors. We don’t need an opponent in the catacombs to find danger.”

A chill went down Shiro’s spine. He ate, despite his waning appetite, and answered meticulous questions Lance asked about the Underworld — how many guards were on duty? What weapons did they carry? Were the other prisoners?

Shiro did his best to answer, but he was starting to nod off. He looked around and noticed most of the Galra were asleep, including Honerva. 

“You can rest,” Lance said. “There’s still time before we need to move.”

They watched as Shiro tried to stay awake and failed. Shiro was half-human, half-god, as Allura explained, so while he was imbued with power and strength beyond that of a normal man, he was still bound by his mortal blood. His time under Honerva’s violent care had left him weakened.

Lance waited until Shiro was safely asleep to take a turn about the room. They laid on their charm, excluding the natural charisma of their angelic being and encouraging the Garla to imbibe as much as they could. Lance hummed a sweet lullaby as they did their final check, their silken singing voice infused with their magic and guaranteed to knock out anyone who might still be awake.

“Shiro,” Lance whispered, gently shaking the Champion’s shoulder. “Shiro. Awaken, my love.”

Shiro blinked up at Lance, his cheeks tinged pink as he realized how close they were. Lance’s smile was like a bolt of lightning, electrifying everything inside Shiro. Everything he thought Honerva had destroyed.

“It’s time to go,” Lance said, and Shiro nodded.

He stood from the table, stretching his muscles. The room was quiet. Even the servants were passed out, sprawled across the stone floor. Sendak was snoring across the steps to Honerva’s dais, and the goddess herself was face down on the table, her white hair fanned out in a messy array around her.

“Wow. This is incredible,” Shiro said, following Lance to an opening in the cavern’s wall. “Where are we going?”

“We’re using these ancient tunnels to escape. It will take longer, but one of the guards told me they are hardly in use.”

The black rock was smooth beneath Shiro’s fingertips as he and Lance began their trek through the dark maze of tunnels. Lance lifted their hand, a small flame of soft blue light formed by magic in their palm. It made the claustrophobic space bearable. Still, Shiro found himself sweating, his stomach queasy as they burrowed deeper. He’d accumulated a nasty collection of scars during his battles, but the worst of the damage had come to his mind. Each twist and turn of the tunnel drew him closer and closer to panic.

“Are you alright?” Lance asked after they’d been moving for some time. “We can take a break if you need to rest.”

“No, no.” Beads of sweat dotted Shiro’s forehead, his eyes glassy. “I’m fine. We need to keep moving.”

Lance frowned. “What’s the matter?”

“It’s nothing.”

“It doesn’t seem like nothing,” Lance said, but Shiro didn’t respond so they continued on their way.

Shiro staggered forward another few steps and collapsed against the wall, his knees shaking.

“Shiro!” Lance spun around and grabbed Shiro’s shoulders, keeping him upright. “You need to take it easy.

“My head,” Shiro murmured, resting his forehead in his palm. 

“Here. Let me.” 

Lance sat Shiro on the ground and knelt in front of them, their fingertips brushing his temples. Lance’s fingertips began to glow with gentle white light and they closed their eyes, channeling their energy into clearing Shiro’s mind.

“Alright?” they asked.

Shiro’s eyes fluttered open, staring up at Lance in wonder.

“Yes.” His breath was a whisper on Lance’s lips and with their gazes locked, they slowly bent toward each other.

_“Champion!”_

Honerva’s deafening roar echoed through the tunnels, startling Lance and Shiro to their feet, the walls rumbling beneath her rage. “ _You cannot escape me!”_

Shiro slapped his hands over his ears, a trickle of blood dripping from his nose.

“We are leaving,” Lance said into the darkness, the ground shaking beneath their feet.

“ _You! What are you?!”_

“Better than you,” Lance answered with a grin.

Lance closed his eyes, moving their arms, their fingers connecting to create a series of symbols. A sparking, glowing blue orb appeared between their hands. Lance chanted a few words, their voice growing as the sphere of energy surged in their hold. 

Lance thrust their arms forward and the sphere rocketed up the tunnel and out of sight.

“Goddess Allura sends her regards.”

A few ticks later, an explosion shook the tunnels, cracks forming in some of the rocks.

“Time to go,” Lance said. 

They didn’t wait for Shiro to respond, instead slinging them over their shoulder with ease.

 _“NO!”_ Honerva’s voice was clawing its way through the destruction to reach them, her fury a palpable force. “ _You may think you have won, but you cannot defeat me so easily.”_

The ground cracked, creating a shifting, unstable path that Lance was desperately trying to navigate. They leaped gracefully over the wreckage, focused on their mission, determined to whatever necessary to save this man.

The rumbling stopped, replaced by the sound of druids chanting. Honerva was sending one last attack their way.

“ _You may think you’ve won, but anyone who tries to leave this place must conquer the Seven Gates of Hell.”_

Lance set Shiro on his feet, keeping one arm around his waist to ensure he stayed upright.

_“I would send you through the normal route, Champion, but you are no stranger to pain. Through that, you would persevere. Instead, I’ll see if you can escape the Seven Gates of Pleasure!”_

A surge of wind blew Lance and Shiro further down the passage toward a swirling portal that crackled with Honerva’s dark magic. Around the edges of the circle were Galran runes, glowing in wicked purple. Shiro screamed, his hand reaching for Lance.

“Don’t worry,” Lance said, their face distorted by the rippling motes of black energy emanating from the wormhole. “I’ll protect—”

The portal sucked Lance and Shiro inside and evaporated, leaving nothing but darkness in its wake. 

* * *

Shiro blinked awake, his head foggy. He couldn’t remember where he was or how he got there. There were soft glowing blue lights around the room. He must have gotten back to Altea. 

He sat up, wincing as he stretched out sore muscles. Looking around, he realized that he wasn’t back home. At least not in his own home.

This was Allura’s bed.

Shiro’s eyes went wide and he glanced down at the sleeping form beside him. Long white hair and lilac skin. 

“Allura?” Shiro asked groggily.

His head was scrambled, vision blurred as he tried to piece together the previous night. No matter how hard he tried, Shiro kept drawing a blank.

“ _What more could you want, Champion?”_ A warped version of Allura’s voice echoed around the room, but to Shiro it was real. _“Let yourself be rewarded for your victories. I am yours for the taking.”_

Shiro glanced down, admiring the curve of Allura’s hip beneath the sheets, her scent already making his mouth water. He cozied up to her, spooning her from behind. Her body was leaner than he imagined it would be, but she was a perfect fit, their forms interlocking as if they’d been made for each other.

Shiro buried his face in her silken hair. Had Allura always had horns? Shiro tried to pull up his memories of his goddess but the plump swell of her backside was intoxicating, driving him mad.

A series of large crystals were scattered around the room — an unusual detail that was lost on Shiro in his current state— and they sprouted a vine that spread slithered across the floors, blossoming with luscious flowers. They filled the room with their rich scent, their pollen working it’s specialized magic as Shiro began to move his hips against Allura’s ass.

Lance breathed deep, the flowers urging them awake. They felt Shiro grinding against them and turned to look over their shoulder. The witch had warned of the Seven Gates, but Lance was unfamiliar with their unique properties.

“Where are we?” they asked groggily.

“We’re in your bedroom, my Queen of the Gods,” Shiro murmured, his eyes glowing an eerie purple, a shade that matched the swirling pollen around them. “I’m doing what you asked. Taking what I want.”

“Shiro—” Lance tried to escape Shiro’s grip, but they were no match for the Champion’s strength. “Let go of me. This is all a trick. The witch—”

Shiro grabbed Lance’s jaw, roughly holding them as his lips descended for a searing kiss. The pollen mingled with Lance’s natural pheromones. They were an exquisite being, after all, and the combination was so much that Shiro was completely overtaken.

Shiro’s tongue pushed past Lance’s lips, his hands roving over their body. 

“Been wanting you for so long,” Shiro whispered, pulling back to look at Lance.

His eyes were glazed over with hunger, and it was clear that he didn’t recognize the person in bed with him.

Lance huffed their annoyance and pressed a hand to Shiro’s chest to push him away. A mistake on their part, as Shiro’s muscular physique and the heady scent of the flowers began to draw Lance’s own desires to the surface.

Their legs parted slightly, body relaxing beneath Shiro. He brushed their hair from their face, tucking the long which strands behind their ear. Lance rolled their eyes. Of course, the witch had given them long hair. That alone was probably enough to trigger the crystal’s magic and trick Shiro’s mind.

“Need to fill you with my seed, princess,” Shiro slurred, raising on his knees and urging Lance onto their back. One hand slipped between Lance’s legs, searching for their sex. “Spread your legs s’more.”

“Um, what?” Lance chuckled nervously, the spell wearing off momentarily as their senses cleared and they played Shiro’s words back in their head.

“Greatest desire,” Shiro continued, as he fell deeper into his fantasy. “Lemme become your king.”

He leaned in, his arms trapping Lance on either side. Shiro’s lips grazed Lance’s neck. 

“We can rule together.” Shiro nipped at Lance’s throat, his fingers probing further between Lance’s legs. “Our children will bring in a new era of peace for the universe.”

Lance shuddered, the rest of their resolve crumbling as Shiro’s fingers hit their mark, finding Lance’s small cocklet and stroking it to hardness.

“That’s it, baby.” Shiro found Lance’s front entrance and, dipping in, his fingers immediately enveloped by slick heat. “So wet for me already.”

Lance’s muscles contracted at Shiro’s praise, his fingers sliding in and out in an easy rhythm. The sheets were smooth against Lance’s skin, their stomach coiling with heat.

“I can’t wait any longer. Need you,” Shiro grunted out, his impressive erection bobbing with eagerness.

Lance looked up at Shiro’s exquisite form through their lashes, their long hair fanned out on the pillow. 

“Then take what is yours,” Lance cooed.

Shiro’s nostrils flared, and he slipped his hand from between Lance’s legs, replacing his fingers with the head of his cock, stretching Lance open as he pressed inside.

“Oh, gods, it’s better than I thought it would be.”

Shiro grabbed Lance’s ankles, yanking them apart, his shaft nudging further. Lance sighed, their head thrashing back and forth on the pillow as Shiro advanced, driving a spire of liquid pleasure through their core.

“Breed me,” Lance moaned, and a growl thundered in Shiro’s chest, his hips snapping forward of their own volition.

The crystals in the room responded to the eager lovers caught in the spell, pulsing brighter, the vines crawling across the room, toward the bed. Sweltering heat surrounded them, and soon their bodies were covered in a glossy sheen of sweat.

“That’s it,” Shiro crooned as Lance’s body tightened around him. “Let me see you. I want to see you come.”

Lance lifted heavy lashes to look at the Champion raised above them, his handsome features etched in determination as he spread Lance wide. Lance reached down, stroking themself with quick, trembling fingers.

Their toes curled, Shiro’s grip bruising their ankles where he held them. 

“Please,” Lance begged. For what, they did not know. 

But Shiro was gracious enough to answer their plea.

He dropped Lance’s legs, one hand landing with a thud next to Lance’s head on the bedding while the other grabbed their hip. The new angle afforded Shiro access to the sensitive bundle of nerves deep inside Lance, his cock gliding along that secret spot at each pass.

A scorching white heat burned through Lance, binding them with wild pleasure. They climbed, higher and higher, everything in their being crying out for release. Lance came with a warbled moan, nearly pushing Shiro out in the process.

But he held tight, taking advantage of Lance’s wet heat to pound into them even further without their tight muscles making it difficult.

“Oh, gods.” Shiro’s eyes rolled back, his mouth open in a perfect ‘O’ as his entire body shuddered.

He fucked into Lance with sporadic, punishing thrusts before spilling his seed. They clung to each other, the room falling away. 

Lance creaked their eyes open, watching the floor open into another swirling portal of the witch’s magic.

“Shiro,” they whispered groggily, but he was already unconscious.

Lance tried to rouse from beneath him but they were still locked together, and Lance could only hang on as the wormhole swallowed the entire room, dragging them down into another pit of darkness.

* * *

“Lance?” Shiro awoke with a start, his body relaxed from his recent climax. 

But his mind was a tangled mess, thoughts distorted. He was sitting on a stone floor, similar to the one in the cavern, except this one lacked the natural cracks and crevices indicative of true age.

“Seven gates of…”

It all came crashing back into Shiro like a meteor. Honerva’s curse. The seven gates of pleasure. Allura’s room. Breeding.

Lance.

“Oh, shit. Lance!” Panic bubbled up in Shiro’s chest. What had he done? “Lance!”

His voice sent a booming echo around the room, but there was no response. Shiro could barely see his hand in front of him.

He stood, his legs wobbling with his first few steps. There was a strange sound coming from the opposite end of the chamber, and Shiro drew closer, trying to make it out. Gasping, moaning, and the squelch of bodies writhing against one another.

Flames crackled to life, illuminating the source of the commotion and Shiro froze. Lance was smashed between two massive demons, one fucking them from behind while the other fucked Lance’s throat. 

Their hair was short again, their body as Shiro remembered it from the previous chamber. Hands were touching what was _his._

The demons looked like Galra, but as Shiro stepped closer, he noticed they were unlike those he knew from the prison. These demons were different. They varied in size, but all of their faces were hidden behind strange masks.

“ _Welcome to your second chamber, Champion.”_ Honvera’s disembodied voice rang in Shiro’s ears. “ _Did you enjoy your little fantasy?”_

Shiro growled. “Let us out!”

Honerva cackled. “ _But I’m not done with you yet. Here, you will find pleasure in being used.”_

Hands grabbed at Shiro from all directions, new demons popping into existence and clawing at Shiro’s flesh, dragging him over to the others.

Shiro could hear Lance’s muffled cries, tears streaming down their cheeks, but he was powerless to help. Shiro was forced to his knees as four demons surrounded him, their cocks bobbing insistently in front of his face.

A hand forced Shiro’s mouth open and the demon closest lunged in. Shiro gagged around the thick length forcing its way down his throat, but he couldn’t resist. The other demons laughed and grunted, a couple of them tugging at their cocks, waiting for their turn.

“Open him,” a voice hissed, and soon spit-slick fingers probed Shiro’s entrance, working their way inside.

Lance was still being fucked senseless, cum puddled on the floor by their mouth, dripping from the corners of their lips as they gasped for breath. The demon behind them came with a vicious growl, biting the curve of Lance’s shoulder and knotting them. 

“That’s it, little slut.” The demon stood, wrapping an arm around Lance’s waist to keep them upright. 

Another slipped into Lance’s front entrance, driving into them with a knot still buried deep in their ass. Shiro was surrounded, cum splattering his face as one a demon to his left jacked off onto him. The fingers in his ass were replaced with the blunt tip of a thick cock, but his cries were silenced by the shaft stuffing his throat.

The demons took their turns, passing the couple around like toys, fucking them until they were ragdolls. Any shame that Shiro felt at the beginning chipped away as time went on, his body eventually responding to the demands of his captors.

Lance was much the same, their elegant form bent and twisted, skin spackled with cum. It seemed to go on for an eternity, until one by one the demons vanished into thin air, leaving Lance and Shiro on the chamber’s floor, wrecked and utterly used.

* * *

The next chamber held new erotic horrors for the Champion, who found himself shackled next to Lance on an evil-looking rack. It had the same ambiance as the dungeons, but before they could figure out the chamber’s intent, they were joined by another demon. 

This one was more like a druid than a Galra general, and their fingers were gifted with fire and ice. The druid proceeded to subject Lance and Shiro to exquisite torture of temperature until they both came. Hot and cold, working in tandem to bring out dueling erotic sensations.

After that, Shiro woke up in a plush bed, similar to the one from Allura’s fake room. He looked around for Lance but couldn’t find them. Confused, he made to move from the bed when he felt something brush against his leg. He lifted the sheets and found Lance.

And Lance. And Lance. There were tens of small Lance’s crawling over his body, licking and kissing him, making their way to his shaft.

Shiro’s body had recovered from their previous encounters, but this was overwhelming in an entirely new way. He was a prisoner to their fingers and teeth and tongues, and he came over and over again at their will. 

The fifth chamber was unlike any of the previous. Lance and Shiro were both waist-deep in a shimmering pool, the water illuminated by smooth stones lining the bottom. 

“What is this?” Shiro asked, his hand settled on top of the perplexing water. 

Lance opened their mouth to reply, but a rumbling cut them off. Beneath them, the stones began to shift and move, their rigid surface flexing and growing, becoming long, sentient tentacles.

They were slick and sticky, a viscous purple sludge coating them. Shiro splashed in the water, trying to get away, but tentacles wrapped around his wrists, holding him in place. Two more grabbed his ankles, rendering Shiro completely immobile.

Across the pool, tentacles were already working their way into Lance’s mouth, hoisting them out of the water and slithering up Lance’s thighs. Unlike the demons who took and forced and fucked, the tentacles were almost gentle by comparison. Curious even. 

They milked Shiro, curling around his cock and squeezing him until his entire body convulsed, twitching and spurting what little cum he had left. The tentacles stretched Lance, gliding into their front and back entrances with ease. Shiro watched as a bulbous egg moved through one of them, the tentacle depositing it into Lance.

Lance moaned around the limb fucking their throat, their stomach distended with a slight obtrusion. More eggs followed, filling Lance until they were bulging and round. Shiro lost sight of Lance as the tentacles shifted his body, laying him out on his back.

Thin, squiggling feelers branched off, the slimmest of them tickling Shiro’s urethra, sliding in for a sensation that made Shiro want to immediately cum, but he couldn’t. He was overstimulated, overworked, and over pleasured in every sense.

On the opposite side of the pool, Lance was gagging, the tentacle at their throat slipping free. They clenched their body, the weight of the eggs forcing an orgasm upon them. Lance huffed a tired breath, the tentacles lowering them into the water. 

Once submerged, the eggs began slowly falling out, each one enough to make Lance moan. Shiro’s ass flexed, his entire being crying out for release as he listened to Lance’s lewd sounds. 

The tentacle pulled out of him, releasing his cock and Shiro climaxed, a dry orgasm crashing through him as he rutted up into the air. He wasn’t sure how long they were in the pool, but eventually, he was able to wade over to Lance, the tentacles falling dormant once more.

“Lance?” Shiro picked up Lance’s weak frame, holding them against his chest.

They were each slick with fluids — both theirs and the monster's. 

“Can you hear me? Are you alright?”

Lance’s eyes blinked open, their short hair mussed, a patch of fringe plastered to their forehead. Shiro moved the hair out of Lance’s face. 

“Shiro?” Lance’s voice was raw.

“I’ve got you,” Shiro murmured. “I’ve got you.”

Lance drifted off once more, feeling safe in the arms of their lover, the warm water lapping against them.

* * *

At first, there was nothing. 

Lance opened their eyes and they could just make out Shiro’s form hovering next to them. They were both on their stomachs as if swimming through an imaginary ocean. Lance tried to speak but there was no sound.

Moving also proved difficult, and Lance twisted their body against a series of restraints. Slowly, twinkling stars began to illuminate the space until Lance and Shiro were surrounded by the unbridled glory of the cosmos. Lance could see now that the elaborate system of knots and thread was holding them suspended, traveling so far that Lance could not see where the gold string began. 

Shiro was the same, his muscled form bound with the same golden thread that held Lance, his eyes open but glowing white. Unseeing. 

Lance opened their mouth to call to him, but again, no sound emerged. Their right hand was closest to Shiro, and they wiggled their fingers, trying to get Shiro’s attention. The thread holding their wrist vibrated as they moved and when Lance’s fingertips finally, blessedly connected with Shiro’s, the thread snapped. It moved with a mind of its own, sliding around Shiro’s wrist, tying them together. 

They couldn’t communicate with Shiro, but there was no need. The thread carried thoughts and feelings between the two, and once they were connected, their minds forged an unbreakable link. Lance was shown visions of Shiro’s entire life — his birth and upbringing, his training, his feats of strength. They saw the fears and shame. And days Shiro spent imprisoned, a muzzle and collar replacing his shield and sword. 

Tears welled unbidden in Lance’s mind. The visions continued, showing them a different Shiro. A Shiro from another reality. And Lance saw themself by his side. They appeared in infinite form, Lance and Shiro in every iteration, across every reality, their love shining unbridled throughout space and time.

Love poured freely from Lance, echoing through the thread and wrapping around Shiro. They lived an entire lifetime that way, exchanging their innermost thoughts and learning of one another. Needles made of starlight twinkling down from the heavens around them, strung with the same glittering gold.

Lance could not feel the needles working against their skin, but they could see on Shiro that the thread was making their connection permanent, etching the thread into their skin until there was a single word tattooed down their back in glinting Altean characters.

Soulmate.

* * *

Shiro woke up in his dungeon an old man.

His hands were wrinkled with age, his face sporting a long, shaggy beard. The cell looked the same as it did the day he arrived in the Underworld, but Shiro felt ancient.

His tired limbs creaked as he moved toward the door — a daily practice. Shiro wrapped his hands around the bars, peering out into the dark hallway, looking for his love. Shiro wasn’t sure how long he and Lance had been separated. Didn’t even know how he’d been recaptured. 

It was probably true that they never really stood a chance of leaving, not against Honerva and all her dark forces. 

But time moved regardless, giving Shiro an eternity to miss the only being he’d ever shared his soul with. Through their trials, Lance had become an integral part of him, altering the very nature of his being. 

Shiro wondered if there was really a tattoo on his back since he had no way of checking his reflection. Wondered if Lance had been real at all. Maybe the entire thing had been one of the witch’s illusions. Or maybe Shiro had just been there long enough for his mind to erode. 

He sighed and went to the back of the cell, leaning against the black stone wall and sinking to the ground, his joints creaking at his slow descent. Just as his rear touched the floor, footsteps echoed in the hall and a blinding light blanketed everything in a flash.

Shiro shielded his eyes; a shadowed figure stepped in front of his cell door. 

“Who’s there?” His voice was weathered with age and he barely recognized it.

“Shiro.”

That sound. The sound of his names on an angel’s lips. 

“Lance?”

Shiro’s limbs protested as he scrambled to his feet, his heart thundering in his chest. 

“Is that truly you?”

The cell door opened and Lance reached a hand in, beckoning to Shiro. 

“Come with me. It’s time for you to return to Oriande.”

Shiro took Lance’s hand and stepped out into the hall, the illusion of his old age falling away.

“Lance!” Tears brimmed Shiro’s lashes and he yanked Lance into a fierce hug. “I’ve missed you so much.”

They held each other like that for an immeasurable moment, Shiro’s shoulders shaking as he tried to hold back his sobs. 

“I never thought I’d see you again,” Shiro mumbled, wiping his eyes as he pulled back to look at his love.

Reunion. The greatest pleasure the heart could know. They shared a passionate kiss, the dungeon falling away.

“Shiro..” 

Lance’s brows drew together in sorrow. They cupped Shiro’s cheek in their palm.

“It is time for _you_ to return to Oriande.”

Shiro looked at Lance in confusion before their meaning sank in. “We’re going to Oriande together.”

He gripped Lance’s shoulders. 

“I just spent an eternity without you! We’re going together or we’re not going at all.”

Lance’s luminous eyes leaked a streak of pearlescent tears that shone brightly on their lilac cheek. 

“I’m sorry, Shiro. The witch never intended to let us both pass through. This is the only way.”

“No!” Shiro backed away. “I won’t let you! I won’t—”

“Hey,” Lance said, a fond smile curling their lips. “I was brought into this world for a singular purpose. To save you.”

Lance wiped away an errant tear from Shiro’s cheek. This was wrong. All wrong. If Shiro had to go back without Lance, he’d be going back without his very soul. 

“Please, let me fulfill my destiny.”

Before Shiro could object further, Lance drew a circle in the air, their magic leaving a radiant design of Altean alchemy. 

“Shiro, I’ll always love you.”

With that, Lance closed their eyes, expelling all of their magic quintessence into their spell, their body disintegrating into floating motes of blue light that became a vortex. Lance’s energy merged with their spell, swirling and growing until there was a portal situated above Shiro’s head.

A beam of light shot down from the wormhole, radiating quintessence strong enough to transport him from the Underworld back home. He stared at the column of iridescent light surrounding him, the energy pulling him up off the ground.

“ _Goodbye.”_

* * *

Sunlight filtered in through the curtains of Shiro’s bedroom, a fresh breeze gently ruffling them apart and sneaking in, fluffing his hair. Shiro’s nose twitched and he groaned, blinking awake.

His eyes popped open and he bolted up, clutching his chest as he did every day. Still unable to determine if he was _really_ home or still caught in yet another one of Honerva’s torments.

Shiro took a deep breath and huffed it out, wiping the sweat from his brow. He swung his legs over the side of his bed, willing his heart to stop racing.

With a shaking hand he reached for the tablet he began keeping at his bedside the night he was teleported back.

25 quintants.

He let out a shaky sigh and set it back down, rising from the bed and making himself ready for the day.

There was a knock on his door just as he finished dressing, and he ran his fingers through his hair.

“Yeah?” he asked, sliding the door open.

Romelle stood on the other side, a massive smirk stretched across her face. 

“Good morning to you, too,” she said, her voice peaking in a sing-song that made Shiro wince.

“Morning,” Shiro replied blandly.

“Aw, c’mon. I brought you some hot tea!”

Romelle thrust a mug into Shiro’s hands and he perked up, scrambling to catch it before the hot liquid spilled on him.

“We have to go! Allura wants to see you in the sky room right away.”

“What? The sky room? Hey, don’t pinch me!”

Romelle half dragged, half pushed Shiro toward the lift. He knew better it would be easier to go with her than force her to get….persistent.

“Did she say what this is about?” Shiro asked, blowing on his tea before taking the first sip.

“She wants you to meet her new head of alchemy.”

“What about Coran?”

Romelle snorted a laugh. 

“The king asked Coran to be his chief of operations. Coran was floored. Position just..” Romelle snapped her fingers. “Opened up!”

The lift drew to a gentle stop at the very top floor and they got off. They were mostly outside, upon the tallest floor of the magnificent castle, pink swirling clouds floating around them.

The breeze carried stronger, twinkling petals carried along with it. Allura was standing near the sky room’s control panel, another Altean standing next to her.

“Shiro.” Allura turned, her face holding a tender smile.

Her companion turned, and Shiro’s steps faltered.

“Lance?”

It was Lance, but not the celestial being that Shiro saw in his nightmarish flashbacks. This Lance was truly Altean, with blue markings and chestnut hair. 

“Shiro!” 

Lance stepped forward, holding out their hand, which Shiro took.

“How are you here?” Shiro asked, pulling Lance closer, inspecting them and their new form.

“When Lance returned from their mission, I was able to take their residual energy and create this new, mortal form.”

Shiro turned to Allura, his mouth open but no words coming out, his silver eyes misting.

“I know it’s a bit unorthodox,” she continued, “but there was a golden thread connecting you. An ancient Altean myth that hasn’t been seen in millennia. You two are a divine pair. True soulmates. If not for that thread, I wouldn’t have even thought to try.”

Lance kissed Shiro’s chin, snuggling into his embrace.

“Thank you, Goddess,” they said.

“We’ll leave you,” Allura replied, touching Shiro’s shoulder as she walked over to Romelle.

The two left Shiro and Lance alone in the clouds, the sun’s golden rays shining onto them, warming their skin. 

“What happens now?” Shiro asked, arms circling Lance’s waist.

“Now?” Lance reached up so their lips could meet. “Now we live.”

Shiro gazed down at Lance. A strong gust blew around them before they could kiss again, and they burst into a fit of giggles. 

Lance turned to run toward the safety of the entrance alcove, and their robes rustled in the breeze, the open back billowing wider, revealing the golden tattoo running down Lance’s back.

The last of Shiro’s fears since returned crumbled away, and he was able to give them the first genuine smile since he’d been captured.

“It’s really good to see you,” Shiro said once he reached Lance.

He brushed his knuckles down Lance’s cheek.

“You too,” Lance said against Shiro’s lips, moments before their mouths met in a kiss that was at once new and exciting and eternal.

**Author's Note:**

> Bonus Scene:
> 
> [Sometime Later]  
> The couple is in bed, lounging in the morning.
> 
> Lance: ...So you, like...really wanted to fuck Allura, huh?
> 
> Shiro: *turns beet red* ..
> 
> Lance: ..
> 
> Lance: .. same tbh
> 
> *Shiro.exe has stopped working*


End file.
